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Tell Me A Story
Deslea R. Judd
Copyright 2003


DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine. Interpretation mine.
ARCHIVE: Yes, just keep my name and headers.
RATING: PG13.
SPOILERS/TIMEFRAME: FTF, One Son, Amor Fati.
CATEGORY/KEYWORDS: Krycek/Diana, vignette, angst. Shades of
Krycek/Marita and Mulder/Diana.
SUMMARY: They told each other stories, little lies that made it
all okay.
MORE STORIES: http://fiction.deslea.com
FEEDBACK: Love the stuff. deslea@deslea.com
AWARDS/ELIGIBILITY: Spooky Awards 2004 eligible.




"Tell me a story," she said one day.

It was a warm day, one of the last warm days before the seasons
changed. The news had filtered in from the Antarctic in faxes
and coded messages, and they both knew that the real change had
already come. With almost jovial dread, they toasted the
forthcoming end of the world, and marked the occasion with a good
old-fashioned comfort screw.

"A story?" he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"A fairytale. The good guys win, the bad guys lose, and all's
right in the world. You know."

It was a hopelessly self-indulgent thing to ask, and she
half-expected him to laugh at her outright. But Alex had
softened these last few months - watching Marita, lying there day
after day had done that - and so he drew her into the crook of
his shoulder and humoured her.

"Once upon a time, in the days that are yet to come - assuming
there are any," he added "- there will be a land where no-one
gets hurt." He traced his fingertips over the scar on her belly.
"Children like Gibson will play, and no-one will try to take
them away, and they won't need brave, beautiful soldiers to guard
them."

It touched her, somehow, that he remembered that.

"Protectors won't die," he went on, and the tender note in his
voice turned grim. "They won't be blown up with bombs in their
cars for giving vaccines to innocent women." She wondered if he
meant Scully or Marita or both.

She took up the thread. "Evil men will not be allowed to
prosper," she said. "They will not be allowed their smoking
rooms and their plans. They will not be allowed to collude and
control." She ran her fingers through his hair. "There'll be no
disease," she said more gently. "They won't hurt anyone like
that again."

Alex's eyes were bright when he kissed her.

"No-one will need to lie," he murmured against her cheek, and
for one shining moment she allowed herself to believe it was
Fox's breath she felt there. "He'll know the truth, Diana.
He'll come back. He'll love you like he did in the beginning."

She clutched at his hair, and she wasn't sure whether the sound
that fell from her lips was a sigh or a sob.

"We'll find a cure," she said between deep, hasty kisses.
"We'll make her better. Gonna make it all better. Alex-"

It was the best love she'd ever had.


~x~


"Tell me a story," he said one day.

The winter had passed, season of her discontent, and there were
more changes, these ones brokered with heat and fire. The evil
men were gone - most of them, anyway - but there were more to
take their place. Fox knew the truth, and he understood, but
they were as adrift as they had ever been. Marita was alive, and
better - after a fashion - but her eyes were as dead as before.

Their fairytales had come to pass, but they had not come true.
They were imperfect and hollow, little lies they told each other
to make it all okay.

"Once upon a time, in the days that are yet to be, there will be
a world without hurt," she said, taking his hand. "People will
love, and they will not be parted, and they will be free."

"I'd set you free if I could, Diana," he murmured when his mouth
was on her and his hand was on her breast.

"I know you would," she said, and she arched beneath him, and
she didn't think of Fox.

The love was slow and sad that time. There was passion between
them, and empathy too. She found herself looking at Alex, found
herself wondering what would happen if their fairytales never
came true. Wondered if they might cleave and make a story of
their own.

There was a part of her that wanted that.

In an imperfect world, perhaps her imperfect lover was the
perfect choice. He could not give her the truth she found in
Fox, but his lies were kind.


~x~


"Tell me a story," she said that last morning in Tunisia.

Her fairytale hadn't come true - most of them didn't, she
supposed. But Alex had done his best. She was as free as she
would ever be. Fox was lost to her, on a path she could never
follow, but no-one would ever hurt her again. He hadn't lied
about that.

He didn't indulge her this time. "Are you sure about this?" he
said instead, stroking her hair back against the pillow, his
voice unusually solemn. "You could have it, you know. You're
starting fresh. No-one would ever have to know."

He thought it was Fox's, she could tell. The casual surprise,
the questions he asked. With carefully-worded queries, she
learned that he believed he couldn't father children himself.
That the radiation took it when he took the oil.

She thought about telling him. She could be happy with him, she
sensed. Maybe happy enough to risk being drawn again into the
life from which he had tried to set her free.

"Tell me about Marita," she said instead.

"There's a guy in Carthage," he said. "I'm heading over there
tomorrow. He says he has something that might help. Another
strain of the vaccine."

"I'm glad," she said, and she was, even if it hurt as well.

"Are you sure about this?" he said again. "If you want to have
this baby, Diana, I'll help you."

She looked at him, not her white prince, but her dark knight,
and yes, she wanted it. She wanted the happy ending - the love,
the family, the world without hurt. She wanted the children who
played without fear. She wanted it all.

But it was a world he could never have himself. A world he
wanted for her, that he could only give her by setting her free.

They told each other stories, little lies to make it all okay,
she thought. She could spare him one lie more.

"I'm sure," she said, and with her lie, she set him free.



END



AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story was inspired by Ruugerion, who I
found through my site referrer logs. She discussed the rarity of
abortion in fanfic and mentioned an old story of mine, Her
Sacrifice, as the only fanfic she'd read that had shown a main
character having an abortion. I'd just finished writing The Cold
White Room (which is a different universe to this one, if you
were wondering), and I was on a bit of a Krycek/Diana
hurt/comfort kick already, and it all went from there.